The Man of Her Dreams
by Luthien and Tari Oronar
Summary: After Tessa begins having dreams about a mysterious man, she is transported to a new world, where she meets the love of her life. I'm bad at summaries, please R&Rmy 1st fanfic ever!
1. In Dreams

Disclaimer: Sadly, the only thing I own in this entire story is the character (and plot). I do not own the Lord of the Rings, or any other Middle Earth related object (sadly). Enough said.  
Just so you know, this is my first ever fan fic (go me!) so if I mess something up, please just let me know!

It began during my sixteenth year. My first dream told me it was something different. At first, I dreamt of flowers, and fruit trees. One figure that seemed to be a prominent symbol in my dreams that night was a beautiful, white tree, with white flower petals falling gracefully from it.

Then, I dreamt of destruction, of fire and war and death. The tree died, before my very eyes. For some reason, I felt great sorrow at its loss. But then, in it's place, a golden ring took up my vision. I saw thousands of people, all living under the shadow of this dreadful, strangely compelling sphere.

I saw a castle, and I saw two men, who acted very close. One of them, the darker of the two, left the city where the tree had once been, and rode to a beautifully forested place. It seemed more peaceful—safe there, though I could still sense the disturbing ring.

I saw this man gathered with a strange collage of men—some tall, fair, and graceful, with long hair and pointy ears; some short, with unruly hair and hardened faces. I saw several men, and I saw a short, curly haired, furry-footed child—who, as I watched, I realized was not a child at all, but rather a very small man. They seemed to be discussing something—a ring, the same that had been demanding my attention earlier—and they burst into an argument about it.

While they argued, the strange little man stood and shouted something, which silenced everybody. They discussed something a little while more, and then several of the people who were there gathered in a group. Eventually, there were nine people. They set out somewhere, and I watched them go on their journey.

When I woke up that next morning, I could remember every detail of my dream, crystal clear, except for the faces of everyone, but the dark-haired man who I first had seen. For the next six years, I dreamed of this man and his companions as they traveled, through mountains, and caves. The leader, an old man died, and they met up with more pointy-eared guys. They set out on a river, using boats, which appeared to have been granted to them by these strange men.

I had these dreams nearly every night, and I knew that there was something special about the dark-haired man, who played such a prominent role in my sleep. I somehow knew we were destined for each other, even though I had no idea who he was, and though he appeared to be from a totally different place, where short guys and old guys with magic and pointy eared guys ran the world.

On my twenty-third year, I was driving from college to my mother's home, for our annual Christmas party. I was at a four way stop, and a truck was turning in front of me. I watched, as if in slow motion, as the truck hit a patch of ice and skidded towards me. I couldn't get out of its way, and it slammed into my car. Then I blacked out.

When I woke up, it was to the sun shining in my face and I heard a bird singing in the trees. _Were am I?_ I wondered. I could smell smoke, and what I thought smelt like bacon. I opened my eyes slowly, and sat up. I immediately regretting my decision as blood rushed from my head and a painful dizziness overwhelmed me. But I forced myself to stay up, and take in my surroundings.

I was in a clearing; surrounded by beautiful trees, which's kind I had never seen before. To my right there was a fire crackling, and a curly headed man was crouched next to it. He must have felt my stare, for he looked over at me, standing to his full height. My eyes widened in disbelief—he was one of those short people I dreamt about! Behind him, I noticed three other little guys like him. They stared at me, apparently as startled as I was.

Then I heard a gravely voice slightly behind me. "Sam," the voice said, "has our guest awoken?"

The short guy who had been cooking, Sam, I assumed, nodded. "She has."

"Well," the voice said, "why doesn't someone go find Aragorn, let him know? He'll know what to do with her."

Two of the other short guys spoke up, then. "Merry and I will go find him," one of them said. They ran into the woods, leaving me alone with the two short guys and the voice. It was then that I saw it. I was looking at the two short guys, and I noticed a shiny object hanging around his neck.

I narrowed my eyes, focusing on it. It was a ring, like the one that haunted my dreams. I fell back, catching myself with my hands, a cold dread squeezing my heart. I gasped for breath, and turned my head, trying to erase the ring from my sight. It seemed like its image had been burned into my sight. I tried to reason with myself, saying that it was just a piece of jewelry, no reason to get upset, and even though my words made sense, I could not reason with myself to release it from my memory.

I heard voices in my subconscious, but I failed to register them. I know not how long I wrestled with my nightmares like that, but then I felt a hand on my shoulder. Somehow I was able to come around by that touch. I moved my head towards the hand, and I realized that my eyes had been gripped shut.

I opened my eyes, and stared…into his face. "It's you!" Dimly, I heard another strange voice say, "She talks!" But I didn't turn towards the new voice. His face transfixed me. It was the man I had always dreamt of—my destined.

"Miss," he said, his voice the kindest, warmest thing I had ever heard, "Miss, are you alright?"

I nodded, aware of an acute pain in the back of my head. "Uh-huh," but I wasn't sure that was true. I had found him—the man of my dreams! (Literally!)


	2. In Love

I grew from a foreknowledge of our destiny, to a pure love of Boromir. He told me of dreams he to had experienced, of a strange women who he now knew was me, and I told him of my dreams.

One day, as we were making camp, he came up and pulled me away from where Sam and I were having a heated debate as to how potatoes should be cooked—fried, baked, mashed, or boiled.

"Tessa," he said in his soft, shy, quiet tone that I loved to hear him speak in—it usually accompanied his blushing and nervous shuffling of feet—, "I know we just met a few weeks ago, but…I feel something different with us. It just feels…right."

"Um" he mumbled bashfully. I smiled at him, taking his hand in mine. He looked up at me and smiled gratefully. He gripped my hand slightly, then relaxed his hold. The next thing I knew, he had pried me fingers opened and placed a cool object into them, and then fold my hand back up.

I looked down in surprise at my hand. I opened it to discover a beautiful star pendant hanging by a delicate silver chain. It was a six-pointed star, with beautiful jewels set into each tip. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. "Boromir, I…"

He shook his head and put a finger to my lips. "No," he said in a soothing tone. "This," he said, blushing furiously now, he blinked rapidly and looked down at my hand before continuing, "uh, this is the necklace my, uh, my father gave my mother on their wedding day. Uh, when she died, he gave it to me. I'd like…uh…Tessa…if you would wear it…Tessa," he dropped to his knees, holding my hand in his, "will you marry me?"

I stared at him in shock. I hadn't seen that coming. Not so soon. I mean, we'd just met, and even though we'd been dreaming of each other for so long that we both felt as if we knew each other, we couldn't escape the fact we were from different worlds and had only met each other till a bit less than a month ago.

How could I say no to him? I loved him, I knew that. This was my destiny. We were meant to be together. Yet, I didn't belong here. What if I left, just as I had come—what then? Why was I even here? All these thoughts flitted through my mind in those ensuing seconds. What was I supposed to say? 'Yes? I'll marry you?' But how could I do something like that, for someone I had just met?

My entire future lay in one word. Dare I say it? "Yes," I murmured.

He looked up at me, hope shining in his eyes. "What?" he said softly.

I smiled, "Yes. I'd be honored to wear this necklace, as evidence of the love I shall hold for you forever. I'd love to marry you."

A smile broke across his face, and he bent down and kissed me. An icy thrill rushed through me. This was how it was meant to be. I wasn't sure how, or why, but this was supposed to happen, this way.

Neither Boromir nor I wanted to wait till we reached civilization, and have a proper ceremony. And of course, it wasn't like that was going to happen anyways. In my mind, a 'proper ceremony' was with a minister and a church and a cathedral train. But know one even knew what I meant when I mentioned any of those words.

So I was pleased to learn that in Middle Earth, all that was needed to wed someone was an exchanging of statements of love, and at least two witnesses. So on the banks of the Anduin River, Legolas joined us together in the bonds of matrimony, one late afternoon.


	3. In Despair

One day, we reached the end of the River, the falls of Rauros at a place Aragorn called Amon Hen. It was a beautiful place, yet somewhat mysteriously disturbing. I helped Sam unpack and begin a light meal, while Aragorn and Legolas discussed what their next move should be. Pippin and Merry were listening patiently to Gimli's grumbling, and Frodo had wandered off somewhere. Boromir was checking the supplies.

Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli began arguing about their next move, with Pippin and Merry and occasionally Sam jumping in with their opinions. I listened quietly to them, not yet well enough versed in the geography and cultures of Middle Earth to offer my own two bits.

Gradually, we realized that Boromir was missing, and though none of the men seemed overly concerned at his disappearance, I was worried. Even though I'd only known him in person, he didn't seem like the kind of guy who would just wander off without telling anyone where he was going, or even that he was leaving.

Shortly Boromir reappeared. He looked very sorrowful, and it was obvious something was troubling him. "Where have you been, Boromir?" Aragorn asked. "Have you seen Frodo?"

Slowly, Boromir told us that yes he had seen Frodo. He told us that he had argued with Frodo, and that Frodo had suddenly disappeared, and that Boromir assumed he must have put the Ring on. Every one seemed to fall into a panic, with Legolas & Gimli racing in one direction, and Merry and Pippin in another, and Sam not seeming to know what to do or what do. Everyone but Aragorn, who as calmly as can be expected under the circumstances instructed Boromir to go after Merry and Pippin, and keep an eye on them, and Sam to follow him. He didn't give me any instructions, so I followed Boromir.

As Boromir ran after the hobbits, with me trying to keep up with his quick pace, he instructed me to stay hidden and away from any danger. Then we saw Merry and Pippin, who appeared to be running from a group of orcs. He stopped and turned to face me. "Don't let them get you," he told me tersely, and then rushed into the clearing, his sword flashing in the sunlight.

He fought ferociously for the hobbits, as any warrior would do. He killed many orcs, before he was hit by one of their dreadful arrows. I inhaled in horror, frozen behind the bushes I had hidden in.

"No!" I wanted to scream, but it was as if my voice had been frozen inside me as well. My breath caught in a sob, but then he rose, stabbing yet another orc. Multiple arrows pierced him, and each time he rose once again to protect his charges, till he could rise no more. He collapsed to the ground, hardly breathing.

Then I melted. I ran into the clearing, sobbing his name, tears streaming down my cheeks. I hovered over Boromir, hot tears scalding my cheeks. _No!_ My mind screamed, _it's not supposed to happen this way!_

"Don't die," I whispered, "Please. I need you! I love you…" my voice broke as my vision blurred from my tears.

His pain-filled eyes cleared momentarily, and he agonizingly, excruciatingly, reached up, brushing my lips with his bloodstained fingers. He appeared to be trying to say something, but he couldn't form any words. Despair filled his eyes, and my heart. "I love you," I breathed softly, and a wan smile stretched across his lips; then his hand collapsed limply back to the ground, and he stared past me into empty space.

Tears clouded my vision, and as I tried to blink them away, I heard Merry and Pippin screaming. I turned, and I saw them being carried away by the Uruks. Then, the leering face of one of the Uruks filled my face.

I heard Boromir's voice fill my head, "Don't let them get you." A fierce fury burned in my chest, and I reached behind for his sword. The Uruk reached for me, and I swung upwards and out as hard as I could, slicing into his stomach. Shock, then anger filled his face as he saw the damage I had done, and he bellowed in anger and pain as he collapsed to the ground.

His companions looked at him as he heard his shriek, anger filling their faces when they saw what I had done, and they started towards me. I knew what they would do if they got me. I would never let that happen while I still lived.

I stole one last quick glance at Boromir. Then I turned Boromir's sword to my chest, and bending over it, collapsed all of my weight onto it.


	4. In the Halls of the Dead

**A/N: **Thank-you for pointing that out to me, WargishBoromirFan. (amongst the other stuff. lol) Hey—they were both "s" words, right? Right. :D

The next thing I knew, I was standing in a huge, empty hall, which seemed to stretch on forever. Then I heard a woman's voice behind me, beautiful and melodic. "Come," she said, "for the Lord of the Halls of the Dead, Manwë, desires to speak with you."

"Who are you? Where am I?" I asked her in confusion.

She smiled, a sad, serene smile. "I am Nienna, she who mourns for the world. I am the sister of Manwë. You are in the Halls of the Dead."

"The dead?" I repeated, "I'm dead…Boromir. Where is he? Where is my husband?"

"I'm so sorry dear," she said, "but he has passed on. You will not find him here."

"But I need him!" I cried in frustration, "You don't understand! We've just found each other! You can't expect me to never see him again, can you?" I glared at her, angry, defiant, and unbelieving.

But my outburst had no visible effect on her. Instead, she shook her head and said, in her same, depressed voice, "Come now. You must see Manwë."

I nodded sadly, following her slowly to a large hall at the end of the corridor. There, a glorious, yet intimidating being—like a man, but not—sat regally on a throne.

Suddenly, I had a frightening sense of déjà-vu. I had been here before! I knew it! But how? I had just died now. Yet…

Manwë smiled at me. "Ah. So, you remember this. You remember why you came, do you not?"

"I was…I was supposed to find Boromir. We were supposed to be together…But you took him from me! Why? I thought we were to enjoy a long life with each other! You can't just take him away from me like that. I just found him!"

"You found him," he said, "as you were meant to. It is now time for you to return to your world." He nodded solemnly. "May the blessing of all Valar shine upon you."

My sight began to cloud…fade...darken. "Wait!" I cried, "Wait!"

Heartsings: Thank you for your comments and suggestion. I'm going to work on that now—hopefully this chapter has a bit more detail. :D

Amanda Ayers: Thank you much! That really makes me happy—that I wasn't so very predictable. 


	5. In the Hospital

I awoke to a bright light shining in my eyes. I groaned, moving my arm to block it. I forced my eyes open, then sat straight up—a decision I regretted immediately from the throbbing pain that escalated to a screeching stabbing in my head. Where was I?

I looked around my surroundings. A dotted blue and white wall surrounded me, with a creamish colored curtain on one side. I was laying on a bed, and their was a beeping—a hospital? I was…

"Boromir!" I cried out. He had to be here! That was why I had gone to Middle Earth—to find him—wasn't it? I heard a gasp on the other side of the curtain, and it was yanked aside to reveal my mother.

"Tessa!" she squealed, "You're awake! How do you feel honey?

"Harold!" She yelled into the hall, "Tessa's awake!" I heard a commotion in the hall and my father entered the room.

"Hey there, honey." He said warmly, "How are you?"

I nodded, "I'm…I'll live." I couldn't tell them about Boromir, or my heartbreak at losing him. I know that they wouldn't understand what had happened.

Another man appeared in the door. "Ah, Miss Ohtar. I'm glad to see you're awake." He turned to my parents. "Would you mind if I had a few minutes alone with her?"

They nodded, and backed out of the room. "I'm glad to see you feeling better, honey." My mother called as she shut the door.

The doctor smiled benevolently as he turned back to face me. So, Miss Ohtar—"

"Please," I interrupted him, "Call me Tessa."

He nodded. "Tessa. Umm, did you know that you are expecting?"

"I'm what!?" I shrieked.

"That's what I thought." he said. "You're just a few weeks into you're pregnancy. We discovered the fetus—"

"Baby," I murmured automatically.

"Excuse me?" he said.

"Baby," I repeated, "not fetus.

"Right," he agreed condescendingly, "baby. We found the _baby_ during one of the checks."

"How can I be…pregnant?!" My tone changed mid-sentence as I realized what had happened. "Boromir!" The wheels in my head were turning. If our child was real, then couldn't that mean he was real to?

"My…were there any other people involved besides the driver of the other car?" I demanded of him.

"Yes, a middle-aged man," he said, "but who's…Boromir?"

"I shook my head, "A guy. Where is he now? I need to see him. Do you know where he is?"

The doctor grimaced. "Miss, I don't think that's such a…"

"I don't care what you think!" I growled, "I need to see him. NOW!"

He put his hands up defensively. "OK young lady. Don't get all riled up. He's here, don't worry. I'll comply to your requests—but just this once." He helped my up, and five minutes later, we were making our way down the hospital hall.

Heartsings: Thank-you! That makes me feel special! :D 'Good work…' it sounds so nice! I have good work! starts singing the hallelujah chorus, much to surrounding people's chagrin. and thank-you for pointing out my lack of detail—I have a bad habit of abbreviating everything. I worked on putting more info in chapter 2, and I'm going to work on chapter 3 too. Hopefully this chapter is a little better. :)

Amanda Ayers: Yay! Did you hear that everybody? I'm good! stands up and starts dancing around room like crazy maniac. I'm so happy now! Thank-you. And, thank-you for saying that you didn't see that coming—maybe there's some hope for my surprise writing after all! :P


	6. Author's Note

I am really sorry I haven't updated in forever. Thank-you for your patience, and I am pleased to announce that I should update within the next couple weeks. It's been a really busy month with work and finals and lots and lots of essays and testing and family. But it's almost over (yippee!), and I'll be able to return to my joy in life, writing. :D

Lu


	7. In the Mall

**A/N: **First of all, I'd like to thank all of you out there who are reading this, and who want me to go on. And I'd like to apologize for not updating this as soon as I promised. I'd truly planned to, but then life ran away again. I'm sure you all have experienced this at some point as well. :D Here's a nice chappie for you all, though. Thank-you again for your persistant patience!

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I scowled at the girls giggling and blushing as Boromir passed them. To my gratitude, he ignored them. I was suffering from a jealousy complex—I knew that. But it was seriously so difficult to do anything when every time we went into public, a bunch of ravenous man-hunting teenaged girls (who weren't as stupid as I liked to think, and could recognize an amazing man a mile away) trailed him everywhere. The next time some shameless flirt asks him for his number, I swear—I cannot be held responsible for any bodily damage I may inflict on anyone. And Boromir, while we're on the subject of girls, better learn really fast to stop being polite to all these…flirts. Seriously, we're _not _in Gondor—this is America. Girls can have their hearts broken—they heal in about 2 seconds (or however much time it takes for someone else to catch their eyes).

Boromir blushed sheepishly as he approached me. He knew how much it annoyed me when girls chased after him—and, thankfully, he tried to avoid it as much as possible. I smiled triumphantly at the girls as he reached my side and took my hand in his. They grumbled slightly, dispersing in whatever direction suited them best. Boromir, on the other hand, triumphantly held up a milkshake in one hand and a Big Mac in the other. "Oh, God," I mumbled as I grabbed the milkshake and slurped it ravenously. "ang-ook!" I said happily. Then I swallowed and tried again. "Thank-you," I repeated gratefully, "You don't know how awful this is!" It was a silly quirk —whenever Mom had told me stories of unimaginable yearnings for the strangest foods, I hadn't believed her, deciding that I would be one of the craving-free lucky people. But such was not the case—I was an official McDonald's fan now, and was gaining more weight than I had thought possible. But at least it wasn't something totally wild, like flour and fries.

Boromir smiled at me and patted my rounding belly—a mound that, sadly, was at four months, less baby than it was Big Mac and milkshake. "It's all for the little one," he told me condescendingly. It was now my turn to blush. Though I had continuously told myself that once the baby was born, my cravings would stop, I was scared that it wouldn't. I had to admit—I was enjoying these burgers and milkshakes more than I had imagined. A guilty pleasure, I had to admit, but pleasure none-the-less.

We were at the mall. It was an event I had been looking forward to ever since I'd wrapped my mind around the fact that Boromir and I were going to be parents: shopping. No, of course not ordinary shopping. We were shopping for something a whole lot more important: paint for the baby room. Our child was getting a special room, and I was doing it myself. I wanted a star theme, I had told Boromir, and he would have to deal with it. He was a smart man—he knew better than to argue with me. I had also decided that I was going to do it myself. The baby didn't need a room done by a stranger—Mommy could handle it.

I thought that it would be fun and informative for the baby to have passages of wisdom on the wall too. Maybe shooting stars, with quotes as the tails. Quotes like "Honor your father and your mother." After all—it was never too early to teach a child respect. Boromir wanted to go with plain white stars—he said that the white stars and a white tree were a big thing in Gondor. Not that I would know. I had only dreamed about it. It wasn't as if I had lived there or anything.

So there we were, me finishing my lovely calorie dose, and Boromir walking patiently beside me, hanging on to my bags. I had told him we were shopping solely for paint…but we were at the mall! If I wanted only paint, I would have gone to the hardware store. No, I wanted some…useful items to help with my…muse while painting the baby's room. Useful items such as comfortable clothes, some new music, peanut butter. Just little things like that. And the rocker…but that was a delivery, so he wasn't carrying that. Which was a good thing. He's strong and all, but I don't want him to have to lug a huge box around or anything.

When we finally reached the paint store, I was tired, and wishing I _had_ made him carry the rocker. Maybe we shouldn't have taken the long detour, and instead have just come right here. Oh well, at least it wouldn't be a long walk to the car.

I wanted dark blue, with yellow paint…preferably sparkly. But I didn't know if there was such a thing as sparkly paint, and the high-school flunkout that was waiting on us didn't know either. I don't think he knew much of _anything_, but that was a different story. So while he was in back, trying to find someone who did know, Boromir tried to convince me to go with grey and white instead. I didn't like the idea. But when he gave me the "bright colors make the room look bigger" speech, I had to concede. But only a darkish grey, and sparkly white paint for the stars.

Almost immediately at the end of our mini-conference, flunky returned. Yes, they _did_ have yellow paint with sparkles. Would I like to purchase any? They had a new savings card, did I know? "No," I told him, "I would actually like white paint with shimmers." And he was back trying to find out about white sparkly paint before I could call him back. I stared at Boromir, trying to bite back my giggles. It wasn't working very well.

An hour later, we had our paint. I don't think either of us could leave quick enough. No more paints for me. I made a mental note to myself _not_ to let the baby ever work in a paint store. It was bad for the brain. I was afraid my mind had been forever damaged. "How long does it take to mix up paint?" I asked rhetorically.

Boromir, thinking my question was aimed at him, shrugged. He wasn't a good person to ask—he had no idea. But he did know where he wanted to go. I think the car had been calling to him. He made a straight beeline for it. I don't think I've ever seen him find the car that fast. It was amazing. I also don't think he ever wanted to see another store in his life…especially not those of the mall variety.

All in all, I felt that I'd had a successful day. Minus the part about Boromir probably never willingly taking me shopping again. But that was OK, since ravenous man-hunting girls seemed to populate largely the malls. Maybe once he had a baby in his arms he'd feel differently. Until then, however, I might just have to keep him in the apartment, keeping him busy with important tasks, such as learning how to cook. There was no way I'd ever learn, that was for sure.

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**Reviewer Responses:** Wow! 6 people have reviewed, basically for one chapter, plus the author's note! I feel...loved! Thank-you all! 

**BrightSideoftheDark:** That's what I've been told. I'm truly working on slowing down and focusing on _one_ thing, and just elongating it. But it, like all things, does take time. Thank-you!

**Tariel:** No, I can't say that I have. Is it here on FF? I'll have to see, I suppose. So not-casual is good? lol I don't know--this was my first idea of a fanfic that actually got past my mind. It's not the best ever (no, really:)), but I'm hoping that once I finish it I'll go back and redo it some, maybe make it a whole lot better:D

**theycallmemary:** Tee-hee? Sorry? Here you go! Shoves story into arms and runs off.

**Cindy**: Aren't we all? Drools at picture of precious. Yummy...lol

**Amanda:** Yay! I'm glad you love it! Weeeee! Yuppers, Middle-aged guy is none other than the star of Lord of the Rings! Precious:P

**Cindy:** Yup. I'm updating soon. See? Sorry. :) my bad?

**A/N:** Again, thank-you all for your patience. We love our humble lackeys who exist to boost our ego. It makes us feel special indeed. Yay! dances off like crazy person, singing about special bunnies and chocolate turtles


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